Something's Gotta Give
by ecrivaisseur
Summary: Romantic CaptainCharming. David Nolan is a doctor at the Storybrooke General Hospital when Killian Jones, an artist from Boston, is brought into his ward due to a car accident. The injuries are serious, and since Killian has no where to stay, David offers him to stay at his place. The two men quickly develop feelings for one another, though will either one be able to admit it?
1. Just A Regular Day

**I have been a huge Hook/Charming shipper for awhile, and this is my first CaptainCharming fic. It is an AU, in Storybrooke. Bear with me, I know it might seem a little slow at first. I hope you guys enjoy it!**

Chapter One

Just A Regular Day

David Nolan's apartment was a mess. An absolute mess. Boxes dotted the shiny, hard-wood floors, hiding their beautiful gleam; papers were cluttered together in piles on the dining room table, a combination of mail, medical reports and random paperwork; the trash can was overflowing with take-out food boxes; there were dirty dishes in the sink; and a mixture of clean and dirty clothes seemed to have taken over the space around the washing machine. His apartment really was an absolute mess.

It wasn't common for him to live like that. In fact, it was more common for it to look like no one lived in the apartment. Since he was a child, David had a tendencies to be labeled as a "cleaning freak," something which had been reaffirmed when he, at the age of four, had been found by his parents scrubbing his bathroom floor, his hands bleeding from his force. He had felt like the family's maid had done a poor job, and hadn't gotten rid of "all those evil germs." David, suffice to say, had always been adamant about cleanliness and organization.

But, nevertheless, his apartment was a mess that morning. It truly was, though, despite his "clean freak" tendencies, David didn't seem to notice nor care that morning. He had other things to occupy his attention.

"Mary Margaret," he said over the phone, attempting to maneuver his way around the packed up boxes that dotted the floor of his apartment, "It's okay. Take however long you need." Some of the boxes were filled, others were almost empty. They contributed heavily to the mess, but they weren't his. They were hers: his ex's.

David and his girlfriend Mary Margaret had decided to break up their relationship almost a week ago. It had been mutually agreed upon, since, recently, it seemed all they had been able to do was argue with one another. Over anything really: bills, friends, places, events, etc. Surprisingly, his obsessive cleaning hadn't been a topic of argument, but most everything else had been. But, most importantly, the spark that had once been felt between the two had been lost a long time ago, for both. David no longer loved Mary Margaret, and she no longer loved him. Neither was actually sure when they stopped loving the other, but it had been for awhile. Their relationship had truly ended long before their actual breakup.

Thankfully, they were both doing their best to keep the breakup friendly, and they both agreed to remain friends. Maybe that's what they should have just always been: friends.

" _David, I am sorry. I really am. It's just my new place won't be available till the end of the week. When it opens up, I promise I'll come get all my stuff and be out of your hair_ ," Mary Margaret explained on the other end of the phone. " _I know you must be tired of having all those boxes everywhere_."

They had lived together for about three months, but, since the apartment had belonged to him before they moved in together, Mary Margaret had been the one to move out. David offered her to stay as long as she needed till she found another place, but she had thought it best to move out as soon as possible. Though she wanted to remain friends, she did want to move on with her life. And David, despite his offer, was certainly ready for her to move out as well. He, too, was ready to move on.

"No, really, whenever is fine. Mary Margaret, it's no big deal, really. The boxes aren't actually that bad" he laughed. Just as he said it, though, he tripped over one of the many boxes and slammed against the wall. The pain stung in his arm, as he let out a moan. David rubbed the bruise with his hand as he balanced his phone in the other. "Okay maybe they are."

" _I really am sorry, David_ ," she replied, hearing his crash against the wall. " _Believe me, I am trying my best. It's just I've got a lot on my plate now_."

"Mary Margaret," he said, reassuringly, "It's fine. I get it. We both have a lot going on right now, that's why we didn't work. We are both very busy people." Both David and Mary Margaret would admit that their lives were hectic. You wouldn't think that a small-town doctor and an elementary school teacher would have such busy lives, but they did.

And when two, fast-moving, working people such as themselves were involved romantically, it didn't always work. But hey, that was life.

"I am just happy that we are able to end or relationship and still remain friends. I really am," David added, forcing a smile to appear across Mary Margaret's face.

" _Me too, David. Truly. And I hope the best for you, and that you find the right girl or guy for you. David you deserve it_ ," she said warmly. David blushed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Guy?"

He could hear Mary Margaret utter a giggle from the other end of the phone. " _Oh David, you don't think I didn't notice? For a much as you liked women when we first met, you obviously also had a thing for men. Trust me, attraction is very hard to hide_."

"But Wh-"

She interrupted him. " _Especially for you, since you practically always show what you're thinking by your facial expressions. It's alright, it didn't affect our relationship_."

David stood there, surprised. He hadn't the slightest clue that his girlfriend had known.

" _Anyways, thank you so much for putting up with the boxes. I promise I'll come get them by the end of the week_ ," she said, changing the topic, " _Okay, I've gotta go. Class is getting ready to begin and my students are starting to show up. Bye,_ " She clicked her phone, ending their conversation.

He set his phone down on the table, and examined the knot that had formed on his upper arm. It had swelled into a black and purplish bump, one that didn't look to pleasant. It didn't feel too good, either. But, thankfully, he was trained to examine injuries. He knew that it would go down within the next few days.

But he couldn't stop thinking about what Mary Margaret had said. She was right, of course, David was attracted to men as well as women. He hadn't always known that. It hadn't been an easy thing to discover about himself. He had always had crushes on girls, never on guys. The feelings for men had always been there, whether he had realized it or not, even since he was a kid. But it had been hard at that age. That kind of attractions weren't quite been accepted by his family. His father, for one, had made his opinions very public. He told David that said feelings were wrong, and that he was to only be with women. Exclusively. But David eventually realized that he couldn't hide that aspect about himself. And, apparently according to Mary Margaret, he hadn't been all that good about hiding it to begin with.

He just couldn't get over the fact that she had known, and still had stayed with him. He respected her the more for it. Like she had said with him, he, too, really did hope she found the right person for her.

With that thought, he quickly glanced at the clock that hung in his living room. It was 8:15 which meant he _had_ to get to work.

David swiftly rushed over to the front door of his apartment. He slipped on the coat that was hanging in the closet nearby over the bright blue scrubs he was wearing ( a necessity for his job, of course) and also wrapped a scarf around his neck. He hurried out the door, locked it behind him, then down the hallway and to the elevator and out to his car. Within ten minutes he was at the Storybrooke General Hospital, where he worked as one of the two in-house doctors in all of Storybrooke along with Dr. Whale.

* * *

After a morning of paperwork, David finally met with his first scheduled patient of the day around 11:00: Leroy Arenberg, a tiny, grouchy looking man with ruff scruff and narrowed eyes. He worked part-time at the hospital as a janitor, so it was relatively easy for him to come in when he needed to.

Today, Leroy wanted David to take a look at his throat and give him some medication. He was concerned that he might have strep throat since his throat was scratchy and he didn't feel well. David realized that it was, more likely than not, a cold, since it was that time of the year in Storybrooke. However, to ease Leroy's concerns, he agreed to take a look.

"Leroy, you are fine," David explained to the small, pout-faced man who sat in his examining room, after getting a glimpse of the inside of his mouth and throat."You have a minor case of the cold. It isn't anything serious. I'll proscribe you some antibiotics and it should be cleared up in a few days." He looked at his patient reassuringly.

The man looked unconvinced. "Are you sure doc? It has to be something more serious. My throat feels like it is on fire. It's gotta be strep throat or something!" His eyes darted around worriedly and he tightly clutched his hat in his hands.

David was used to this kind of behavior. In his five years as a doctor at the Storybrooke General Hospital, he had seen many patients coming in all the time with a minor illness thinking it was something fatal. That was usual for most small towns, especially Storybrooke. Not only that, but it was also particularly usual for Leroy.

Leroy was a regular of two places in Storybrooke: the bar, where he spent his evenings, and the hospital, where he spent his days. He had a pretty serious drinking problem, but nevertheless he was very cornered about his health. Despite his nickname around town being "Grumpy", he could easily have been nicknamed "Scaredy" when it came to his health. He usually overthought what he really had, always thinking it to be something far more serious than it really was.

In a way, David thought, it was good that he was so cautious about his health.

"Yes, Leroy, I am sure. You'll be fine. I am a doctor you know," David said, trying to put him at ease.

Leroy grunted. "Can you double check, just to make sure," he asked, adding emphasis on the last part.

"I can, but my diagnosis won't change. You have a cold."

Anyone would have agreed with him. In this case, Leroy exhibited the usual symptoms of a cold: a runny nose, scratchy throat, sneezing and couching, etc. It was common for people to get a cold at that time of the year. It was December in a New England town and still some people went out into the weather without warm clothes on. There was nothing David or anyone else could do to prevent it besides telling people to dress properly for the weather, otherwise they'll be back in the hospital in no time.

Leroy was a frequent offender. He never wore a coat, and it was actually more than likely he didn't even own one.

"Just check again so we can be positive, doc. Please!" he pleaded, looking desperately at David. "Better safe than sorry, right doc?" David conceded and reached for the small flashlight that he used to examine the inside of patient's throats from his pocket.

"Alright," he said, clicking on his the small light and pointing it towards his patient, "open up." Leroy did so eagerly.

As before, David still didn't see any white spots on his throat, which ruled out strep throat. There was minor drainage, and his throat was also red, both of which would be symptoms of a cold. Like he had said, his diagnosis didn't change.

"Yep. Just like I said before, you have a cold. Again, nothing serious."

Leroy sighed heavily, finally reassured and relieved it wasn't something serious. David wondered if the man had hoped it was something serious, so that way he could get the medication for it. But he shook the thought out of his mind. However, this was Leroy they were talking about.

Nevertheless, David scribbled down on a sheet of paper and handed it to the small man. "Here is a proscription for some medication that will help. Drink it twice a day for three days and you're cold should be gone."

Leroy nodded. "You got it, doc." The man hurried out of the hospital room and off to somewhere else, most likely a bar, while David entered the rest of Leroy's medical information in his file and then moved on to his other patients.

* * *

The rest of David's day at the hospital had been the usual ebb and flow of patients, exams and proscriptions: Ashley's newborn had had a fever and wanted to make sure something wasn't serious; Mayor Mills had come in for her monthly checkup with her son, Henry; Eric had needed a refill on his allergy medication, along with Granny, who had needed a refill on her pain medication. It was like most other days at a small-town hospital: not boring, but not particularly thrilling, either.

David enjoyed his job at the hospital. He liked helping people everyday, something he had learned he enjoyed after spending a year in Africa working for to help feed starving children on a missionary trip. Now, helping people with minor medical illnesses was a heavy step down from that, but that didn't stop him from still liking his job. But, his work inevitably always left him tired at the end of the day. A day of hard work, but still a tiring one, and he always found it a relief at the end of the day to come home.

So, it was of no surprise at all, that when he finally got to his apartment after clocking out of his shift at about 8:00, he dropped his coat and scarf on the floor and fell onto his couch, the plushness of the cushion and pillows that greeted his face a soothing welcome. He groaned pleasantly as he closed his eyes and took in the feeling of relaxation.

He could very easily fall asleep then and there. And since Mary Margaret didn't live there anymore, there would be no one to tell him he couldn't. But, he really should sleep in his bed. Otherwise he would wake up with a crook in his neck and an aching back like Granny. He didn't want that.

David pushed himself off the couch and sleepily dragged his way to his bedroom. Passing by his dining room table, he noticed a important item he had failed to realize he had forgotten at work that day: _his phone_. He had left it on the table that morning, after ending his call with Mary Margaret, and had absent-mindedly left without picking it back up.

He picked it up and checked to see his notifications. Four calls from Mary Margaret, two from his father, one from a patient, and another from an unfamiliar number. David sighed annoyingly. "I am not even going to check my emails," he mumbled to himself. He was too tired.

Setting his phone back down on the counter, he walked back to his bedroom. Not even bothering to flip the light-switch on, he slipped off his pants and shirt and dropped them on the floor. Only in his briefs and a light T-shirt, he pulled off the covers to his large bed and plopped in. Hugging the pillows he lay on tightly, he let out a small groan of pleasure. After a long day of working, he was finally comfortable.

Sleep overcoming him, he was ready to let the snoozes take him away. Then, suddenly, a vibration sounded from the other room.

His eyes flew open as he was jerked back from his sleepily drift away. A loud ringing followed the noise, filling the air. It was his phone.

David rushed out of bed towards the device, wondering who would be calling at that hour. He grabbed it and immediately looked at the caller ID: The Hospital. He pressed the accept button and listen to the voice that was sounding from the phone.

" _Doctor Nolan! We have a code 12, there has been an accident!_ "

The voice was that of a nurse, and David immediately realized the situation. He replied that he would be there within ten minutes, and quickly hung up the phone. He ran back to his bedroom, slipped on his scrubs, grabbed his car keys and phone off the table, and rushed off to his car.

It had sounded serious on the phone.


	2. Not Going To Lose Another

Chapter Two

Not Going To Lose Another

David's car pulled into to the hospital just as the EMSA ambulance carrying the accident victim was arriving, with sirens and alarms blazing in the air. The noise was unusual for that time of the night, so many people had gathered along the sidewalk surrounding the hospital, wondering what had happened to the person in the ambulance. They now watched from afar as the large, white vehicle pulled up to the front doors of the hospital.

David, himself, didn't know much about what had happened. The nurse hadn't told him much over the phone, only that it had been a car accident, that the injuries were serious and that he needed to come immediately. He had only heard about one victim, which caused him to wonder what had happened to the person driving the other car. Had he survived? or was he killed?

What also happened to be running through David's mind was how terrible is luck was. True, his luck was not nearly as bad as the two people in the car accident, but still. Usually, the other doctor who worked at Storybrooke General, Dr. Victor Whale, had the night shift at the hospital, however he was out of town for the week at some medical seminar. Had he been in town, David could have happily been sleeping at that moment. But, however, he wasn't.

There was someone who needed his help.

He parked his car, locked it behind him, and ran up to the entrance of the hospital, meeting the two EMTs who were carrying the man on a large gurney. Nurses had run out of the hospital to greet them, directing the men through the double glass doored-entryway. David followed behind them, and, once in the lobby of the building, he slipped off his jacket and threw it onto nearby chair. He ran back to the EMTs.

"A John Doe broadsided by a car. No blunt force trauma, though severe scarring along the legs and abdomen," the EMTs barked at him as he rushed with them through the front desk of the hospital and back towards the operating rooms. "Heavy loss of blood."

Running quickly, David directed them towards the main wing of the hospital. "Bring him over here," he said, pointing to a large, empty space near the windows. Already nurses had set up an IV stand and all the other necessary equipment at the spot.

"What about the other driver?" he asked.

"Didn't make it." David stopped, wondering if he knew the other driver. Deep inside, sadness itched at him, though he didn't have time for it. One life had already been lost, they weren't going to lose another.

The EMTs followed where directed and pushed the gurney to the space. Unfastening the restraints, they lifted the unconscious man off the gurney and onto the operating table. They quickly moved out of the way for David and the nurses, taking away the gurney with them.

With the men out of the way, David could finally get a look at the guy: he was unconscious, the force of the accident probably knocking him out instantly; cuts and wounds were scattered across his body, the largest of which were gashed across his abdomen and his left leg. Both were bleeding badly, despite the thick bandages that the EMTs had wrapped around it. His shirt and pants were all torn apart, partially due to the accident and partially due to the emergency aid. He looked terrible.

As much as David wanted to instantly start trying to assist the man immediately - any second wasted could result in this man's death - he knew he to sterilize himself first. There was a procedure, and if he didn't clean off his hands and arms throughly, he could risk infecting the patient. He didn't want to worsen the situation.

Hurrying as fast as he could, David rushed over to the nearby sink, washed his hand quickly, though thoroughly, and slipped on latex gloves. He ran back to the man as nurses surrounded him.

"I need four quarts of blood," David commanded to one of them as a nurse stuck an IV into the man. Just by glancing at the sheets underneath the man, he could see they had already been deeply stained by blood. This patient needed a blood infusion, and fast.

While he waited for the blood to arrive, David checked his other injuries. It appeared that the two major things were his scars on his abdomen and leg. He didn't seem to have any head trauma, though David decided to order a CT scan as soon as the blood arrived.

"Where did the accident happen," he asked another nurse.

"Down on West 16th Avenue, near the park." David clicked on his flashlight and checked the man's eyes. They responded, which was a good sign. His vitals were stable, though he had lost a lot of blood.

He looked at the man as nurses hurried all around him. "We're going to try and fix you," he whispered.

* * *

Killian Jones' thick eyelashes fluttered as his eyes slowly parted open, foggy vision greeting him. The man moaned loudly as he awoke from his unconscious state, the grunt at the bottom of his throat escaping through his teeth. Still a bit groggy, he wondered where he was - somewhere with really uncomfortable sheet, he thought - and what had happened to him.

He tried to think back through his day.

It had been a day mostly of travel for Killian, spent almost solely on the road in his small car. He was moving from Boston, where he had lived for the past three years, to a small-town in Maine called Storybrooke. Killian had never been there before, but he had wanted to move somewhere new. He had grown tired of his life in Boston, and hoped that his art and music career would flourish more in a smaller-town. Usually for most people it was the other way around, Killian knew that. But he wasn't like most other people, or at least he didn't so anyway.

Killian was motivated more by what he felt than by anything else. It had gotten him in some trouble in his past, though it was always how he had been. He always chocked it up to being an artist.

So, he had packed up all his belongings, which didn't amount to much more than a guitar, clothes, some boxes and various forms of art supplies, from his tiny, studio apartment on East Street into his car and set off for the remote town in Maine.

He had arrived in town, last he could remember, and had driven by some park. _He wondered if he was still in Storybrooke…_

As Killian tried to figure out what had happened, David, across the room filling a report out about the man's injuries, noticed he had finally woken up.

It had been two hours since Killian had first been brought into Storybrooke General by the ambulance. David and the nurses had been able to stop the bleeding, and had tightly re-bandaged his leg and abdomen. Having stabilized him, they were able to perform a CT Scan, which they were still waiting on the results from. But, his waking up was a good sign.

David set down his pen and the report. His eyes moving towards the man, he walked over to his patient, who didn't seem to notice him.

"You're awake," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face as he stopped up against the foot of the man's bed. Earlier he had been unable to clearly see the man due to all the blood, but now he was about to definitively see the man.

His patient was a tan, handsome guy in his late twenties, with bright blue eyes and wide lips. He had dark-colored stubble decorating his chin, and shiny, black hair that gleamed under the ceiling lights. His thick, black eyebrows gave the man a seductive look, one that, even from his position in a hospital bed, made several of the female nurses already start to fawn over him.

David could understand the attraction. Already, he too felt an instant appeal inside to the man.

"W-where am I, mate?" Killian sleepily asked, his vision slightly blurred from the bright lights. He squinted his eyes, adjusting to the room.

"You don't remember?" This time, it wasn't a good sign. David worried that he may have brain injuries.

"The last thing I remember…" Killian answered, thinking back to his last available memory, "Was driving my car by a park on some street. What happened to me?"

"You were in a car accident," David replied, "You were beat up pretty badly. You are in the hospital now, where we've treated most of your injuries."

"Am I still in Storybrooke?" He asked groggily.

"Yes, this is Storybrooke General Hospital. Can you tell me your name?" David wanted to check to see if his memory loss was serious. He was able to talk, which meant his verbal skill was still functioning, so that was good.

Killian looked around the room, his eyesight adjusting to the light. It was a large, white and cream-colored area, with several empty beds and several nurses running around. From the room's several windows, he could still see it was night outside. In the corner of his eyes he could see a large, golden and silver crest hanging from the wall. Below it read: Storybrooke General Hospital.

"Uh Killian," he said, recalling it from his memory. He looked back at David. "Killian Jones."

David nodded and wrote the name down on the patients records, which he had grabbed from the counter where had he been working. He didn't seem to notice his patient fall back against the pillow, fast-asleep again due to his pain medication.

"Alright, well Mr- " David stopped, looking at Killian. A sympathetic smile formed across his face as he turned away from the man and walked back to the counter, letting Killian rest.

* * *

It was about another four hours until Killian finally woke up again, coming to it much the same way as he had before.

"Water…" he called dryly to David, who was standing not far away examining some documents. Killian's CT Scans had come back negative for any brain damage, which was incredibly lucky for what he had been through.

He set down the papers and walked over to the man. He grabbed a plastic cup off a nearby stand, poured some water from the sink and handed it to Killian. He drank it heartily.

"Thanks," he said drowsily. He handed the empty cup back to David, and looked at him plainly.

"Is there something else I can get you?" David asked.

"Yeah uh… you got any gin around here?"


	3. Hospital Attraction

Chapter Three

Hospital Attraction

David had a crush on his patient, Killian.

Not a serious, marry-him-and-live-happily-ever-after-forever one. Just a tiny, guy crush, one that David couldn't help but have. It was impossible not to have one on the guy.

Killian had been there for two days now, and David found that the more time he spent around the man, the more he was growing attracted to him. It wasn't simply his looks that David found alluring - though, they certainly helped, _tremendously_ \- he also found Killian's wit and sense of humor to be infatuating. The black-haired man seemed to be able to make light of any situation, that is after all the sleep medication had worn off. His humor was something so foreign to David (perhaps it was because he was from Ireland?) but yet it was oh so refreshing.

But perhaps what David was most attracted to was Killian's heavenly voice. It didn't matter who was in the room, whether it was full or empty, but when he got the urge to sing, the man sung, and it was _beautiful_. He had mentioned to David that he was a musician the day after he had shown up at the hospital, but David had had no idea he was so good. It also helped that he had that charming, Irish accent that made anything he said sound great.

And when Killian sang and also played his guitar for everyone at the hospital, hardly anyone could get their work done. They were too busy listening to his amazing voice.

Many times, David had gone near Killian's bed, pretending to do work, just to look at the man. He was oblivious, of course, of David's stare.

That day, Killian had been out most of the morning. His leg had been in a lot of pain the previous day, so David had given him some medication to numb the sore, causing him to fall asleep. He was checking the wound as Killian's eyes started to groggily open.

"Everything alright, mate?" he asked sleepily as David peeled off his leg bandage, carefully and slowly so as not to cause Killian any pain.

David smiled. "Yep, just replacing your bandage. It has to be kept clean."

"Oh," Killian mumbled, laying his head back down against his pillow.

"Have a nice sleep?" David asked jokingly, his eyes meeting Killian's. He laid a new bandage on the leg wound. "You were out for several hours."

Killian nodded, his eyes locking with David's.

"Doctor?" a nurse called from across the room, requesting David's presence. He turned, looked at her, and nodded. His eyes moved back to Killian's.

"I'll be right back." He quickly walked away to where the nurse was calling him. Killian watched him go, his gaze only parting from him after a long moment.

Killian was not sure how long he'd been at that hospital - no more than a day or two he imagined - but already he had developed an attraction for his doctor. Perhaps it was the medication that was messing with, but nevertheless he still was immensely attracted to the man who was treating him.

He had first realized it the morning after he had been brought into the hospital. When he had first come in, he'd been too out of it to get a real look at David, but boy, when he woke up the next morning, David's brilliant, dreamy green eyes greeting him and his plush lips smiling down at him, he was instantly drawn to the man. His eyes had quickly scaled the man, and he found himself even more pleased with what he discovered… even through David's light, blue scrubs, Killian could see his bulging muscles and his finely toned legs…

Killian could feel a lump growing hard between his legs as he thought about it.

He was very different from Killian, even different from his usual type: artsy, punk-ish urbaners who frequented rock concerts and art shows. David didn't look like any of that, but that didn't bother Killian.

And not only that, David was incredibly kind, as well. Maybe it was his job, but he was a sweet man. His concern and care were ever-present, and though he sometimes acted like he didn't notice, Killian did. Though it wasn't something Killian was usually attracted to, there was something about David that made you want to settle down with him and have kids.

Killian found himself missing David whenever he wasn't around…

"I'm back," David said as he approached Killian's bed. He walked back to his leg and continued fixing his bandage.

"I see that," Killian replied, offering a grin. David smiled back.

He wrapped the bandage tightly around Killian's leg, taking special care to make sure it wasn't painful. "Not too tight?" he asked.

Killian shook his head. "Nope."

"Alright then," David said, patting Killian on the shoulder, "All good."

"Thanks, mate."

* * *

It was about 8:00 that night when it finally hit Killian: _if I was in a car accident, what happened to all my bloody stuff_?

Since he was moving to Storybrooke from Boston, his car had been filled with everything he had owned: his canvases, instruments, clothes, paints, etc. All of it had been with him when he had had the accident, _so where was it now?_

Now, Killian was the type of person who didn't reflect on the small, details of stuff, unless it came to his artwork or his music, so the wonder of where everything in his car was wasn't something that came to his mind when he first woke up. He was more concerned with what had happened, where he was, that sort of stuff.

He hadn't one thought about all his belongings, and not to mention David had brought him his guitar the day before, which had been in the car with him. Killian had just assumed that all his belongings were somewhere safe.

But upon thinking about, he realized he didn't actually know _where_ it was.

"Um mate," he called to the doctor suddenly. David, who was at the counter talking to one of the nurses about medical-stuff, turned around to the man and their eyes instantly met.

David had stayed late at work the past two days. He found he wanted to stay at the hospital longer with Killian being there, plus there was no one back at his apartment for him to go home to.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?"

"Where is all the stuff from my car?"

David himself had to think at that for a moment. "I believe it's down at the police station, in storage. They took it there after the crash."

"Hm," Killian mumbled.

And idea was starting to form in his head. Despite loving the eye candy that was Doctor David, Killian was ready to get out of that hospital. He hadn't the greatest experience at hospitals in the past, and he wanted to get on with his life. He had moved to Storybrooke to work on his art and music career, and so far he hadn't gotten anything done. Sitting there in that bed, doing nothing but watching people take care of him, had driven him insane.

He was ready to leave.

"Why?" David asked, looking again at his patient, "Is there something else you need from it? I can go get something for you, if you want?"

Killian shook his head. "No, it's just," he paused and let out a sigh. "I think I am ready to leave the hospital. I don't have a good history with hospitals, so I would like to get out of here as quick as I can."

David couldn't help a small panic rise up inside of him. He didn't want to Killian to leave - he did, after all, have a crush on the man.

He quickly shook it off, however. Killian was his own man, free to do whatever he wanted, and he shouldn't get in the way of that.

Though the doctor in him quickly showed itself as he grew concerned about Killian's leg. It was still healing, and would require diligent care and attention. It would need to be cleaned multiple times a day, and would require a new bandage every couple of hours. David wasn't sure Killian would be able to, nor would want to, devote that much attention to his leg.

"I don't know if I would advise that, Mr. Jones. Your leg will require constant attention and care for it to heel properly. If it isn't monitored, it could get infected, and I don't want that to happen."

Killian couldn't help but feel a tingle inside as the man expressed concern for him, but he, too, quickly shook it off. David was his doctor, and it was his job to express such concern.

The balck-haired man nodded. "I know and I can do that."

"Do you have a place to go, then?" David asked.

Killian thought back, and his eyes-widened. He actually hadn't gotten a place in Storybrooke, yet. His move from Boston had been sudden, in a flash, and he hadn't had time to look for a place, yet. He just suspected he'd find one a day or two after he'd arrived. It was a small town, after all. There had to be _some_ place that he could rent on short notice.

"Uh, no, actually," Killian admitted, much to the concern of his doctor. "But it's fine, I guess. I can just stay at a hotel until I find an apartment or something."

David looked at him and smiled. "Storybrooke is a very small town, Mr. Jones. The only hotel here is Granny's Bed and Breakfast, and, unfortunately, since this week happens to be the Annual Fishing Convention, it is probably all booked out."

Killian thought about this for a moment. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do now, since he hadn't exactly thought any further than that.

He sat there in silence, thinking about it, as David watched him.

Suddenly, before he could stop himself, David immediately blurted out: "I have an idea: you can stay with me a couple of days, if you like, until you find a place?" _What had he just done?_ he panicked inside. But, despite all his might, he kept speaking, "It's no big deal, really. I've got plenty of room."


	4. My Place

Chapter Four

My Place

"I have an idea: you can stay with me a couple of days, if you like, until you find a place? It's no big deal, really. I've got plenty of room."

Killian's heart fluttered to his throat as he quickly replied: "Alright."

* * *

Killian Jones, for the life of him, couldn't understand how he had accepted David Nolan's offer to stay at his apartment for a couple of days. It was as if the words had just stumbled out of mouth. His words - or better yet, his heart - had already agreed before his mind could decide, something which, surprisingly, had happened to Killian frequently (he could remember many times when that had happened while he was in college back in Ireland.)

Nevertheless, Killian couldn't say he regretted what his agreement. In fact, he was happy he had said it. He was rather looking forward to spending time with the man. David was an intriguing person. It seemed like his life ran on a schedule, and that was something Killian was most certainly _not_ used to.

And, true, Killian was going home with a guy he found to be very attractive (his mind quickly filled with thoughts of seeing David naked, but he shook them off instantly). Though that didn't actually mean much. It's not as if Killian expected anything to happen, since he didn't. He did not even know if David was straight, gay, bisexual or what.

He was, honestly, just looking forward to getting to know David.

* * *

They left the hospital shortly after David had made his offer, after Killian was checked out and got changed out of his hospital gown (David let him borrow some spare clothes he kept at the hospital). The ten minute drive from the hospital to his apartment building had gone by fast, and they chatted the entirety of the time.

Both David and Killian enjoyed the brief time together. It was the first time they had been alone with each other since they had met, and, even though David mostly talked about what Storybrooke was like, Killian was left hanging on his every word.

He was surprised at how quickly he was growing infatuated with the man…

The car pulled to a sudden halt as it parked alongside the curb, and David walked around to the passenger's side to help Killian out. The two walked slowly from David's car to the door of his apartment building, Killian's arm wrapped around David's shoulder as he helped the man move with his injured leg (much to both men's enjoyment). With one eye on Killian and the other on where they walked, David was careful to make sure that the man didn't get hurt and that they moved slowly enough for him.

Looking up, Killian got a better view of what David's home looked like: it was a small, three story building, with tall windows, white-washed brick and green vines covering the ground floor. Above the doorway it read: _Casa Del Sol_.

"House of sunshine?" Killian muttered, translating the words, as David opened the glass front door and helped him through.

"That's right," David replied, surprised. He looked at the man while they walked to the elevator, "I didn't know you spoke Spanish?"

"I took a semester of it when I was at Trinity College Dublin in Ireland," he replied.

"Oh really? What did you major in?"

"Aye, I did. I majored in the arts."

This piece of information didn't shock David. He had suspected that Killian was an artist, based on what little he had told him in the hospital. David, himself, wasn't particularly interested in art - he was more of a math and science person - but he had already made up in his mind that anything Killian was interested in would be of interest to him, as well.

"Storybrooke has a lovely art museum. We should -" he stopped, correcting himself, "You should visit it. I am sure you'd love it."

Killian smiled warmly at him."Thanks for the suggestion, mate."

"You're welcome, uh, uh…" he paused, unsure of how to address the man. He didn't want to seem too formal, since he wasn't technically his patient anymore, but yet he also didn't want to seem to informal, either.

"Killian," the man said, "Call me Killian - Killy for short, seeing as we are housemates and all." He winked at David.

"Alright," he snorted, "You're welcome, Killian."

Grins spread across both their faces as they walked through the lobby of the apartment building and straight to the elevator. David pressed the "third floor" button and up they went.

* * *

"Sorry if the place is a mess. My ex has yet to move out all of her things yet, and so the floors will be pretty cluttered," David explained as they exited the elevator on the third floor of the building and walked down the hallway.

Killian, himself, barely heard the man, trying instead to get the thought of his arm wrapped around the strong, broad shoulder of David out of his mind. It was such a tempting thought, however. Their skin was touching, and a gentle warmth was being shared between the two, causing unceasing feeling to ripple through Killian.

Little did he know that David was feeling the same ripple, though he was much better at hiding it.

"Aye, mate, I understand. Me old place was pretty much the same, rubbish everywhere, and I didn't have an ex moving out," Killian admitted, his eyes moving away from David and onto the floor.

As they reached the door to his apartment, David pulled out his keys and unlocked it. Pushing the door open, he revealed the loft to his companion.

David had been right. It was quite a mess, but Killian didn't actually mind. The scattered boxes, piles of paper, and stacks of clothes would've been a turn off to most, but not Killian. He was used to mess. He was, after all, an artist.

In fact, he was comforted by the apartment. It reminded him of his old place in Boston, and actually looked rather warm. It was smaller than it looked, with only about four rooms, but the high ceilings made the place seem larger. From what Killian could see, there was a living room, kitchen, bedroom and surely a bathroom in the back. It was very open, which also made it feel larger.

The living room, from what Killian could see, was the biggest room in the house, and it led directly into the open kitchen. There was a couch, some armchairs, an ottoman, tv, some bookshelves, and a few pictures hanging on the wall. That, and there was also about fifteen boxes littered across the gleaming floors, which were surprisingly clean despite the mess. There were also several, large windows, which, had it not been the middle of the night, would've allowed sunshine to brightly fill the room.

David tossed his keys on a table next to the door and helped Killian into the loft. They made their way over to the large, dark-colored couch that sat against an entirely-windowed wall, and Killian sat down on one of the plush sofa cushions.

"Since your leg is injured, you can take my room," David said, pointing with his thumb towards the back of his apartment, where his bedroom was, "It's in the back, and that's where the bathroom is should you need to use it -"

"Oh, mate, no," Killian interrupted, "I don't want to be a burden. The couch is fine for me, honestly."

"It's alright, really," David said, but Killian interrupted again.

"Aye, mate, I insist. This is _your_ place, after all."

David smirked. He always found Killian's "ayes" made him sound like a pirate. _A damned beautiful pirate_ , he thought.

Killian arched an eyebrow. "What's so funny?" He couldn't help but smile as well at David's laugh. He didn't know what was funny, but David's laugh was contagious. And amazingly adorable, Killian unknowingly thought.

He couldn't help it. David shook his head, still smiling widely. "Nothing," he said, "Nothing at all."

Killian eyed him suspiciously in a playful manner, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly in his seat. He tilted his chin upward as he said "Really?"

"Yep," David said quickly, "So the couch will be alright for you?"

Killian nodded as David turned and walked towards a closest near the door. Opening it, he reached in and pulled out a set of blankets and a pillow. He walked over to Killian and set them down on his lap. Once more their gleaming eyes met, as they both grinned bright white teeth at the other.

"Uh, so," David stuttered, turning away from him in an attempt to hide his attractions, "I have to work tomorrow - I am a doctor and all - but I'll be by at lunch to check on you - uh, _your leg_."

David nodded at his answer and looked at the man seated on the couch. Killian eyebrow was arched pointedly.

"What am I supposed to do all day while you're gone?"

David paused for a moment as he looked around his apartment, trying to find something for the man to do while he was gone. Truthfully, he would've much rather stayed with the man - his attraction for the man seemed to have grown enormously during their brief time together - but he really did have to work, since Whale was still at his medical seminar and wouldn't be back till the end of the week.

"Well, uh, you can watch TV," he said, reaching for the remote that rested on top of the ottoman and handing it to Killian, "You can watch whatever, just don't delete anything from the queue. Especially Game of Thrones."

A grin found itself spread out across Killian's face as he listened to the man. _Amazingly adorable_ , he thought to himself of David.

David continued to look around, and then he noticed a drawer in his kitchen. Walking over to it, he pulled out a large, yellow notepad and a mechanical pencil with it. He stepped back over to Killian and set it down on the ottoman.

"And you can draw on this, since I know you are an artist."

Killian continued to smile the entirety of the time, completely infatuated with the cuteness that was David Nolan. He found what David was doing to be incredibly sweet (unlike some of the other people he had been interested in) and also very thoughtful.

 _He remembered I liked to draw_ , he thought affectionately.

"Thanks, mate," he said kindly.

"Yeah… So I had better get to bed now."

He walked back slightly, his eyes still looking at Killian, and then he turned around and headed to his bedroom. He feared that if he stuck around too much longer, he would be tempted to jump on the man and kiss him vigorously and passionately, something which was a strong possibility for him.

He was trying his best to hide his attraction from Killian.

* * *

David walked from his bathroom, where he had just finished brushing his teeth, and sat down on his bed. In only an undershirt and briefs, he leaned back against his headboard, crossed his arms, and sighed. Looking through the doorway of his bedroom, he could see into the living room where Killian was now laying down on the couch, his back facing David, a blanket covered over him and the lights off.

David let out another sigh. _What am I going to do_?

His affection for the man had swelled immensely since the day before, and he was unsure what to do about it. He didn't want to make advances on a man he had met just a couple days before, especially considering he was his patient (in a matter of speaking), but David felt like he wouldn't be able to help himself.

David had never felt this attracted to _anyone_ this soon in meeting him. Not even Mary Margaret, who he'd been with for about two years. This was something new to him.

It's just, Killian was something so new, so fresh, to David. He was a entirely foreign creature to him, one that David terribly want to explore more of… in many ways.

But, he couldn't spend all night contemplating it. He trusted that, in time, this problem would figure itself out.

So, David decided to do his best to put it out of his mind and get some sleep.


	5. A Dreamy Distraction

Chapter Five

A Dreamy Distraction

David entered into his apartment slowly, so as not to wake the man he dreamed about. Unlocking the door, he slipped in quietly, shutting it gently behind him. Not a sound arose from the dark, black apartment, only the gaze of the moon providing light.

Turning away from the door, David was suddenly greeted from behind with a passionate kiss, hungry and vigorous, as Killian's hands slipped across his cheeks with the meeting of their mouths. David felt chills of pleasure at the man's touch, and his fingers laced themselves into Killian's black locks of hair as he pressed for more. He wanted more of the man's tongue, more of his lips, more of his _feel_.

A groan of pleasure escaped from David's burning mouth, feeding into Killian's, which only encouraged him.

Their eyes opened and looked into each other as gemstone pools of green and blue, brilliant and amazing. The effect of one another caused them to pause for a moment, taking it all in. David had never felt more happier, more excited, more _passionate_ , than ever in his life.

A hungry kiss recommenced again, their lips perfectly mounting into each other as they plastered their bodies together in a perfect harmony of force and pleasure, the thud of the other sending vibes of delight rippling through David and Killian.

In that moment, desperate and deserving of the other, they felt like bombs, ready to go off if they didn't satisfy their desires for each other.

Their hands, curious and wondering, moved their way around their bodies. David latched his fingers on the front of Killian's shirt and slipped it off of him, tossing it onto the floor bellow them. Killian wrapped his arms around David's back, finding a rest against the small cave below his waist, until finally he moved inside the bottom of David's coat and pushed the leather barrier off.

Moans of delight flowed, like a volcano close to erupting violently, from the men, as they moved from against the front door to the couch that sat nearby.

Every touch, every rub, every brush sent ripples exploding through their bodies. It felt good to David… it felt _real_ … it felt…

* * *

David's eyes shot open as he awoke from his dream. Sweat glossing his forehead, and he felt his body burning up. His heart was pounding, the thrill and excitement of the previous scene still running through his body like it had been real.

He sighed, realizing it wasn't real. The passionate encounter he had with Killian Jones was just a dream, though his body had certainly been convinced it was actual, judging by the hard lump that had formed just above his legs and was now protruding prominently.

David looked at himself for a moment, before lying back down against his pillow. The scene replayed in his mind as he laid there, panting heavily, staring up at his ceiling. He could almost feel the man's hands running along him again…

He was slightly surprised at how bad he wanted it to be real. The man had just moved in last night, and already he was dreaming of having sex with him. David would've scolded himself (he'd only know Killian a few days, though did it really matter?) were he still not high on the rush of his dream.

And so he laid there, reliving his dream, for quite sometime, the darkness of night still creeping in through the windows, telling him it was early in the morning.

He couldn't tell how long he'd laid there, though he figured it was probably an hour.

The loud beep of his alarm clock had interrupted him suddenly, and it was the noise which finally brought him out of his dreamy trance. He hurriedly clicked it off, hoping he hadn't waken his housemate.

He slipped out of bed and quietly tip-toed over to the doorway of his bedroom. He looked through the kitchen and into the living room, where Killian Jones still slept soundly on his couch, apparently unfazed by the noise of the alarm clock.

A small smile found it's way across David's face as he looked at man for a second. And then, he turned away and headed back to his bathroom to get ready for his day at work.

* * *

"Dr. Nolan?"

David sat at the large, wooden desk that graced his office at the Storybrooke General Hospital, on the first floor of the building, directly overlooking the parking lot. Patient files were stacked in front of him on his desk, awaiting his review, and a pen and pencil sat nearby, awaiting his use. But, as much as he had tried to, he positively could not get Killian Jones and the dream he'd had off his mind.

Luckily, it had been a slow day so far, but still. Killian Jones was a huge distraction for him.

The intoxicating dream, and more pointedly the man he'd been with in them, had been the source of his thoughts for the entirety of his day so far. While driving to the hospital from his apartment, he'd been thinking about Killian, and also when he entered the building. When he saw the three patients he had scheduled for that morning - Granny (again), Greg and Ursula - he'd been thinking about Killian.

"Doctor?" Ursula had said, noticing him fade away in thought while writing her prescription for the pain in her foot, "You still here?"

Luckily her comment had shaken him out of it, and he'd managed to make it through writing her prescription and checking her out without thinking of the man. But once he'd gotten back to his office, his thoughts again went soaring back to the dream he had had that night.

 _That feeling… that rush… that passion…_

And as he sat there, attempting to look over those patient files, he was still plagued by Killian in his mind.

 _What was the man doing at that moment? Drawing? Watching Tv? Singing? He surely looked amazingly handsome whatever he was doing. Was he dressed or not? Was he thinking about David? Surely not…_

David found these same thoughts reappearing constantly.

He missed Killian very much. At least when he was at the hospital, David could check in on him every now and then. But since he was at his apartment, David wouldn't get to see him till lunch.

 _Speaking of which_ , David thought to himself as he glanced over at his clock. It read: 11:50.

Ten more minutes, and then he was off to see Killian. He had, after all, promised the man he would check in on him during his lunch hour.

David wondered what it would be like to date the man. His heart fluttered at the thought, though he couldn't help but wonder it. He had grown _that_ attracted to the man.

"Dr. Nolan?" the voice repeated, finally getting David's attention, much to his sudden surprise.

His eyes softened from their shock as he looked up at the blonde nurse standing in the doorway, a clipboard in her arms. "Yes, Ashley, what is it?" he asked.

She smiled at him as she stepped into his office, pushing a loose curl of her hair back behind her earlobe. "Have you gotten a chance to look at those files yet? Tamara and I still have to enter them into the computer, and we kinda wanted to do it before lunchtime."

A look of panic flushed across David's face as he realized he hadn't touched the files since they had been brought to his desk by his secretary, and a tint of red painted his cheeks as he discovered that his Killian Jones-consuming thoughts had kept him from doing his work.

He sighed as he looked at her. "Ashley, I am sorry. No, I haven't looked over them yet, I have had a lot going on in my mind."

She grinned pleasantly at him. "It's alright, Dr. Nolan, we can just enter it in later," she paused for a moment, "Does it have anything to do with the patient that is staying with you - Killian Jones was it?"

David's heart rose to his throat at the mere mention of the man's name, though he refused to admit it since he wasn't entirely sure what to make of those feelings. "Yes, that was his name. But, no, it's just…other stuff."

"Oh," she said, "I see. Well, if you ever need to talk I am here."

This time David smiled. "Thanks, Ashley, that means a lot."

" _Ashley!_ "

Ashley turned around as the sound of Tamara calling her name rung from out in the main lobby, just down the hallway, followed by a request for her assistance at the computers (Tamara was just recently hired at the Storybrooke General Hospital, so she was a bit unfamiliar with their severely outdated technology.)

" _Coming,_ " the blonde replied back, looking again at David, "Well, I should probably go help her. No worries about the files."

She briskly retracted out the door and hurried down the hallway.

He looked at the clock again: 11:55. Close enough, he thought, deciding that any further attempt to try and work would still be futile.

Rising from his seat, he grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door, very eager to see Killian.


	6. Thought Consuming Affections

**This chapter is a little short, and I apologize for that. I wanted to make sure we got to see what Killian was doing while David was away that first day.**

 **The next chapter will be much longer. And for those asking, there will definitely be Killian/David interaction. In fact, that's all it will be.**

Chapter Six

Thought Consuming Affections Interrupting One's View

Killian tiredly rubbed his eyes as he awoke from his slumber. He slowly rose up from his position, and was surprised at where he was - for a moment he had forgotten the previous day's events - before he quickly remembered what had happened: he had gone home with the dashing doctor who was treating him.

A grin danced on the man's lips as the thought of his handsome housemate came into his mind.

He couldn't wait for him to be back.

Much like David, Killian was surprised at how quickly he was growing attracted to the doctor. Usually, his affections for people would result in a one-night stand, maybe a second one, rarely ever a third, and then he'd be done with them. That was just the life he had grown used to, as much as he didn't want to admit it.

He was never looking for any commitment when he chose a partner.

But the way he felt about David was different. It was as if he would be okay with settling down with the man and living a life together… one that Killian was sure that he would be happy with.

Quickly the man scolded himself for such thoughts. He still didn't even know if David felt the same way, or even if he was thinking remotely the same way (Killian guessed he probably wasn't.)

Though the man did invite him to stay at his apartment, even while he was gone. And he was staring at the man last night from his bedroom - Killian could see him in the of the window above the couch - and he had also been staring at him in the hospital, as well.

That could mean anything, Killian thought to himself. And instead of sitting there all-day and evaluating his feelings for other people, he decided he wanted to take his mind off of things.

Reaching for the remote that sat on the ottoman, he grabbed it and pressed the TV on.

Killian scrolled through the channel that popped up when he pressed the guide button, not caring too much what he watched. Finally, after looking through all the available ones, he selected one at random.

The screen fluttered for a moment as it changed to the channel he had selected: Channel 10, which was currently broadcasting ABC's regularly programed 2nd hour daytime talk show, 'The View'.

" _This is The View, America!_ " suddenly burst a voice from on the screen, introducing the talk show. It startled Killian for a moment, though he quickly adjusted to the noise. His eyes watched the screen as the hosts of the show were quickly introduced: Whoopi Goldberg, Nicole Wallace, Rosie Perez, Michelle Collins and Raven-Symoné, and the daytime show began.

As the women walked out onto the set and around their table, Killian tried his best to pay attention to the television, not wanting to continue the discussion he was having with himself earlier, though his mind continued to wander back to the thought of David… _Those lips, that body, **those eyes**_.

The rhythmic clapping of the audience on the screen provided a nice background as he faded away into thinking about David…

 _What was he doing at that moment? Was he happy? Was he laughing? Was he-_

He was interrupted, for a moment, by the " _Welcome to The View, y'all. Welcome to The View,_ " from Whoopi, as she opened up the show, followed by the high-pitched chatter of the rest of the women at the table, though it didn't keep his interest for long. A moment later he wandered back again to David.

Was Killian really sure of his feelings? He had know the guy for a very short amount of time, and already he was missing him whenever he was gone. That wasn't something normal for him, but what did that mean?

Did that mean he was falling for David, or did he just want to get into his pants?

Killian had a feeling he knew which one it was, but he wanted to be sure. As an artist, he usually always just did what felt right to him. Whatever his heart told him, he went with it, whether or not it seemed like good idea in his mind. But this time, he just didn't know.

He wanted to make sure he didn't make the wrong decision this time.

Killian felt himself growing anxious inside even thinking about his feelings about the man. He needed something to take his mind off it, and watching daytime television certainly wasn't going to do it.

He looked around the room, thinking of something to do.

And then, in the corner of his eyes, he saw it: the notepad David had set out for him on the ottoman. And then, Killian got an idea, something that would definitely take his mind away from his complicated thoughts.

He reached for the notepad, also grabbing the pencil beside it, and then placed it on his lap. He scrunched his legs together, pressing the paper closer to him and forming a makeshift canvas-holder. He pressed the pencil onto the paper, and decided to let out what he was feeling on the paper.

As he drew, Killian lost track of time, the focus with which he was stroking his pencil taking up all his attention. With each brush of his tool, each line made on the paper, each spot shaded by his finger, each detail he added, each mistake he erased away, a picture started to form.

* * *

" _Well, you know, people liked that Sarah Palin was a… you know, uh a 'soccer mom' and the lipstick on the pig or whatever the hell that was._ "

Killian's eyes jolted away from his paper as he re-entered reality at the mocking words of Whoopi Goldberg on the screen. He was completely unaware of what they were discussing (how Donald Trump's extreme comments are surprisingly popular with conservative voters), having been lost in his drawing.

" _Hockey mom,_ " quickly corrected Nicolle Wallace, as her companions next to her laughed at the famed moderator's comments.

" _Oh, that's what it - I always get it confused. Anyway…_ " The previous added again, munching on a pretzel.

Killian looked up at the screen, realizing that he had just been drawing aimlessly for awhile - he wasn't actually sure how long - and had been completely unaware of what was happening around him. This didn't surprise Killian, since that was always what happened whenever he drew. He entered into a different land, an escape, his own world, not one of reality, where he just focused on his art and nothing more.

However, he was quick surprised when he looked down at his paper to discover what he had drawn. Sketched out nicely in pencil, and shaded perfectly, was the striking picture of David Nolan.

Killian smiled warmly at the paper. Even in pencil, David looked _so damn handsome_.

Killian pressed his pencil once more to the paper and continued to work on his masterpiece, allowing hour upon hour to fly by without him noticing.

His mind was completely focused on his drawing, and, of course, his subject, David. Little did he realize that the man he couldn't stop thinking about, even when he wasn't trying to, was having the same problem he was, just ten minutes away.

* * *

"There," Killian mumbled to himself, as his head slid back slightly and he got a complete view of his artwork. "Perfect."

He set his pencil down beside him and looked again at the art he had drawn on the page. Though it would never compare to the surreal beauty that was David Nolan, it was a stunning attempt. The man's hard jaw was formed perfectly across the page, his lips planted together plushly, his noise drawn out smoothly, and his hair ruffled cutely, all just like the real-life version.

The only mistake was his eyes. They were close, but not perfect. Killian, however, knew he would never, ever be able to perfectly capture the man's brilliant eyes. Unfortunately (or, as Killian thought, fortunately,) no one would ever be able to draw that.

The amazing, seductive, tempting gleam that shined brightly in David's eyes was not something anyone would ever be able to recreate on paper. Their wonder was something that could only be found on the real thing.

Killian accepted that, and it made him only desire David ever more.

* * *

He had just finish his work when he heard a key turning in the door and a click, signaling that someone was coming in.

Killian quickly realized it was lunch time already, and, a slight panic rising inside him, he flipped the notepad shut and set it back down on the ottoman. He fell back against the couch and faked sleep, just as the door open and in walked David.

David stopped and grinned affectionately at the figure that slept soundly on his couch. _A perfect angel_ , he thought.

He walked over to the man and shook him gently. Killian turned and a warm grinned formed on his face as he eyes crept open.

"You're back, mate"


	7. Law and Order For Lunch

**So I originally envisioned this chapter and the next to be one, long chapter. However, as I started writing it, the scenes in this chapter decided to grow much longer than I had originally planned, though I am very pleased with how it has turned out. As thus, the next chapter will be a continuation of this one.**

Chapter Seven

 _Law and Order_ for Lunch

David's "checkup" on Killian during lunch had been slightly awkward, though not in an entirely bad way.

One couldn't really call it a "checkup." David had looked at Killian's leg when he first got back, though only after walking around his apartment nervously for several minutes, listening to Killian chatter about all that had happened in his brief time at the apartment while David was gone.

"And don't worry, I didn't delete any of your Game of Thrones, mate… I didn't actually watch anything on your queue," Killian had chirped, remaining oblivious to David's pacing around the room. 'Maybe I will after you leave, though you should really stay, mate, and we could watch something good together. It kind of gets boring around here by yourself…"

David was unsure of how to approach checking Killian's leg. At a hospital, with Killian lying in a hospital bed, it hadn't seemed remotely strange. But here, sitting on David's couch, it was totally different. David didn't know what to do, since the mere thought of going up to Killian's leg gave him chills and made his heart fluttered ecstatically.

David din't know if he would be able to control himself around that area of Killian's body, and that was something that worried him.

While he was thinking, he failed to notice that Killian had stopped talking and was staring at him quietly, a wide grin formed across his face, displaying his bright white teeth broadly. His luscious eyebrows were raised slightly and his brilliant blue eyes gazed at the man fondly. _What could he be thinking about over there?_ Killian had wondered.

Finally after contemplating it, David had decided to brace through and had reminded Killian shakily that he was there to check his leg. Nodding, Killian bent forward slightly and rolled up his pants all the way past his knee, displaying his leg to the man.

The gash looked like it had healed, though David barely looked at it. His eyes were constantly wandering past the bruise and up the man's leg, taking note of everything, from the black hairs that decorated thickly along his legs, to the plump, enticing bulge in the man's jeans that rested just above his leg. It tempted David to move his hands from it's place inspecting the gash to further up Killian's leg. Better yet, further up his body.

Killian, for his part, had been equally tempted by David looking so closely at his leg. His whole body rippled with the same feeling he always got around David, though more violent and fierce than every before. The image of David so close to him made his stomach spin, and the bulge that David stared at started to grow harder and harder from underneath Killian's jeans.

He felt he could've very well had an orgasm then and there with just David's hands and eyes on him.

After David had looked at his leg (and other parts of his body, which Killian failed to notice while trying to control his own urges), he stood back up awkwardly and walked into the kitchen, trying to get the thought of Killian's beautiful leg out of his mind.

 _Not a single part of that man's body isn't goddam gorgeous_ , he thought to himself.

"You, uh, gotta a great leg," David slipped, turning red instantly at his comment and regretting it immediately. Somehow, whenever he was around Killian Jones, words escaped from his mouth without his control. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that."

Killian snorted happily from the couch. "Thanks, mate. Your legs aren't so bad either! You must workout?" His eyes had already moved from David's face to the muscular legs that were easily revealed from David's tight blue hospital scrubs. _How badly he wanted to rip those off David Nolan…_

"Uh, yeah, I do. Twice a week. You?"

"Aye, every now and then."

"I can tell," David blurted again, his face still painted red from his previous comment. He decided he'd just have to where duck tape around his mouth whenever he was around this man. "I mean," he said, sighing, "I _could_ tell from seeing your leg. Very nice muscles…"

He drifted off, walking back into the living room. The grin across Killian's face only widened as his eyes brightened even more at the man. "Thanks."

"Your welcome." David returned the smile.

* * *

David had lingered around at his apartment for awhile, longer than he knew he was supposed to. He may not have had any appointments, but he still did have to look over those patient files, which he had left sitting on his desk in his office.

But he really, _really_ didn't want to leave Killian.

Even as he made macaroni and cheese for the both of them for lunch, while Killian talked about what was happening on television as he watched from the living room, David enjoyed being around the other man. Just the sound of the man's voice coming from the other room made him feel good, made him feel happy. He didn't want to leave that.

"And here's that strange commercial for people who can't get it on - if you know what I mean, mate?" Killian had informed from the living room, his mere words causing David to laugh happily as he stirred the boiling noodles. "Why are they sitting in bathtubs on top of a mountain? Is that what getting it up makes them do? You Americans are strange, mate."

"You've been here since college, right?"

"Aye."

"Then I'd say that makes you one of us!" David snorted, leaning to his side and looking through the doorway into the living room, casting a playful glance at Killian. The black-haired was shaking his head jollily as he watched the television.

"Not me, mate. I'll always be Irish. Through 'n through." He smiled broadly as he looked back at David. Both of them felt goosebumps on their skin as their eyes met again, before parting away as David resumed his stirring of the noodles.

David was still laughing. "Whatever you say, mate."

Silence resumed for a second, as they both went back to what they were doing, before it was interrupted by Killian's heavenly voice once more.

"Hurry up, mate! Law and Order's coming back on from commercial break and you'll miss it!" He motioned his hands for David to come closer.

"I'm coming!" David said as he poured the now-cheesed macaroni and cheese into two separate bowls, added spoons to both, and hurriedly grabbed them with his hands and rushed into the rooms, balancing his eyes between the food in his hands and the man sitting, waiting for him on the couch.

Though nothing was actually happening between them, David felt this was probably one of the happiest moments in his life. Certainly one of his happiest since moving to Storybrooke. That feeling he always got around Killian had now made a permanent notch inside David, and anytime he merely thought about the man the feeling fluttered butterflies and sparks throughout his body. David loved it.

He definitely didn't remember ever having that feeling as violent as he did now when he was with Mary Margaret.

He plopped onto the sofa next to Killian, handed him the bowl, and turned to the TV just in time to hear the dong of the the show's theme noise, followed by the stern face of SVU Detective Olivia Benson appear on the screen, looking away fiercely at someone off screen.

" _You are going down, you bastard_ ," she whispered.

* * *

David finally managed to leave and head back to work an hour later than he had planned, after the Law and Order episode had ended. Killian had fallen asleep halfway through the episode (he'd moved from sitting up on the couch to lounging half on the couch and half in David'd lap, with his feet nestled up beside David's stomach. David, for his part, had been more than happy to have the man's legs so near him) and so he'd been able to slip away without being noticed.

But, even at work, he found himself again distracted by thoughts of the man. Killian Jones was like a disease to him, one that plagued him over and over, unceasing, though one that David always liked to have at the end of the day. A good disease, he guessed.

He clocked in early, around 6:00, though he did get around to looking over those patient files - much to Tamara and Ashely's relief, but he told them they could enter all of it in tomorrow and that they could home early as well.

"Thanks, Dr. Nolan!" they had chirruped as he walked out of the entrance doors and to the parking lot.

As he drove home from the hospital, his phone rang in his pocket suddenly, causing him to nearly swerve off the road. Luckily, no one was anywhere near him, so it wasn't that big of a deal, but he did wonder who would be calling him. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the device. Displayed across the screen was the caller id: Killian Jones (they'd exchanged numbers back at the hospital when Killian was still a patient).

He slid across the screen as he accepted the call, putting it on speaker and setting the phone down next to him. "Yes?" he asked cheerfully, "Is there something I can do for you?"

Though it had nearly caused him an accident, he was more than eager to get a phone call from the man.

" _Aye, there is, mate,_ " Killian said playfully across the other line. " _Since you abandoned me after our Law and Order episode so rudely, mate, I feel you had better make it up to me._ "

"Is that so?" David laughed at the man's faked outrage as his car came to a stop at the red-lighted intersection before him.

" _Aye, mate. Seeing as I am your housemate and all…_ "

"And how can I 'make it up' to you for my oh so evil actions?" he asked, adding another chuckle at the man's excuse. Killian was his 'housemate' , David thought dreamily, as if that was some big, important thing. David would've much rather had Killian be his boyfriend instead of housemate.

" _Well, for one, mate, you can stop and pick us up some take-out,_ " Killian spoke. David could practically hear him smiling on the other side of the phone, because he was, too.

"Take-out? Was my cooking that bad?" David took in a breath and put his hand over his chest, even though he knew the man couldn't see him. "Killian I'm hurt. You've wounded me…" he feigned hurt, though couldn't help but snicker at his dramatic response.

Killian laughed too. " _Oh, yes, TERRIBLE,_ " he chuckled, "i _t was practically poison, mate. Poison! You must bring me back some take-out so that I may survive!_ "

"Is greasy, fast food your anecdote? Is that what cures you from bad, macaroni and cheese poison?" David pulled his car over along the sidewalk, put the lever in park and got out of his car. He pressed the phone off speaker and put it up to his ear.

He walked up to the sidewalk and into the building he had parked in front of: Granny's Diner. I _f Killian wanted take-out, then that would be the place to get it._

" _Yes, mate, it is! Please bring back something greasy so I can live!_ " David heard a loud thud as well as a vibrating sound, followed by a cry of plea from Killian. It sounded like he'd fallen on the floor. " _Hurry, David! I'm dying here! Please, save me, mate!_ "

Though the whole thing was incredibly fake, it felt even less realistic based on the constant snorts of laughter coming from Killian after every word he spoke. Dying of poison? more like dying of laughter.

David couldn't help but grin as he stepped into the diner and walked up to the counter. "Hold on, Killy, I'm in the diner now! Don't worry, I'll be there soon!"

He flagged down Granny from in the kitchen with one hand, as he balanced the phone with the other. She nodded and came out to where he was, her order pad in hand, as she eyed him suspiciously at the words he had just said. She might've thought something was serious, was he not smiling majorly at that moment.

"What can I get for you, David?" she asked with a smile.

"Uh…" he said looking up at the menu, before he was interrupted by the voice on the other line.

" _Hurry, David, please hurry!_ " came the faked cry from the other side of the phone, followed by another yelp. " _Mate!_ "


	8. A Night To Remember, Part One

**This whole scene is going to be longer than I originally planned, so I decided to split it up into two chapters. Hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter Eight

A Night To Remember, Part One

Killian heart fluttered violently inside him, releasing sparks of excitement throughout his body with every breathing moment. He couldn't wait for David to get back with their food. He was still excited from their playful encounter a few moments before on the phone. In fact, he was still excited from the lunch they had spent that day, even though he'd fallen asleep. He was glad to spend any time at all with David.

At this point, Killian was fully aware that his feelings for David were not temporary. In fact, Killian was pretty sure he would always be fascinated by the man, never mind what happened between them. David was something unlike Killian had ever known.

He wanted more of him just thinking about the man.

After calling David, Killian had nervously tried to watch Tv until he got back. _Act like it's no big deal_ , he had told himself. He didn't want to reveal his feelings to the man, though he couldn't control himself. His body was erupting in jitters of joy and excitement for the man's arrival.

Killian could hardly sit still, so he then decided to pace around the room. Arms-crossed, he walked around the living room, then the kitchen, and had even been tempted to walk in his bedroom (though Killian decided against it, hoping instead that he would find his way in David's bedroom, or more accurately his bed, in a different way).

After about ten minutes, David was still not back. "Where is that _bloody_ perfect angel," he murmured to himself.

Suddenly, as if on cue, there was a click from the living room, followed by the sound of the door swooshing open and footsteps entering the room. A paper bag rustled together with the movement…

Killian's eyes lightened. _David!_ , he thought.

He rushed into the room and was greeted with the full appearance of the man standing at the door in his blue scrubs, tossing his keys onto the side table by the door. Killian stood there, arms-crossed, his head tilted to the side as he rose his eyebrow playfully at the man.

"Dinner?" he asked suspiciously.

David responded with a smile and a slow nod. "Yes, I have your precious dinner, wait-" he paused for a second, his eyes racing up and down the man in an instant before continuing, "I thought you were dying in here? What about my poisonous macaroni and cheese?"

Killian froze. Uttering a 'right', he looked from side to side for a second hurriedly, scanning the familiar place, before racing over to the couch and collapsing helplessly. He moaned and he winced and placed a shaking hand over his forehead.

"I am dying here, mate," he yelped teasingly, before motioning for David to come closer to him. He did so, eagerly, very much enjoying the show Killian was putting on for the both of them.

Yet another thing he loved about the man: he was so carefree…

"Killian, do I need to call a doctor?" David asked panically, racing over to Killian as if the man were really dying. And yes, David knew he was a doctor, he just wanted to see how Killian would respond.

He very much hoped that the man would utter something like ' _You're a doctor, David. I need you._ ' Even though he knew it was all a game, he felt chills just imagining the man saying such words that he desperately wanted to hear. More than anything at that point.

Killian didn't answer him, only motioning him to come closer more quickly than before. His eyes-widened, his lips coughing up air, he screeched his voice emphatically, though didn't utter any words. _Help_ he mouthed, followed by a laugh he was unable to hold back.

David, too, was unable to hold back the hearty chuckles escaping from deep in his throat and out in his mouth as he walked over to the man draped across his couch, the fast-food bag still in his hands. He could feel the warmth of the food breathing on his palm as his body moved closer to Killian, eventually close enough that his legs rubbed up against the man's. It sent feelings through his body, the one's he always got around Killian.

It was still not close enough for Killian. His beautiful shimmering eyes looked up at the man, a twinkle gleaming in them that sent David's heart pattering. A few seconds more, and David Nolan would loose it.

Killian motioned even closer. David leaned in, his face only inches away from Killian's. They looked at each other, both their hearts racing rapidly, about to explode in a chaos of excitement, happiness and love. They breathed against each other heavily.

"Close enough?" David asked, his eyes drifting down to the man's lips. Those plus, thick, beautiful lips would certainly taste good against his…

"Aye, mate," Killian whispered, leaning in closer. His lips grazed agains David's and he closed his eyes, ready to receive the kiss he desired.

A crunching sound came out of nowhere, the crunch of a wrapper, followed by an uplifting on the weight in David's hands. He opened his eyes to reveal Killian, sitting back against the couch, hamburger in hand, staring happily back at David as he unwrapped the bread and meat in his hands. He grinned at David, who was still leaning towards him.

Most importantly of all, he had not kissed David.

"Mate?" Killian asked, still smiling at the man as he took a bite from the hamburger. He was thoroughly enjoying this.

He knew full well what he was doing. He had purposely acted like he was going to kiss David, and it'd taken all his self-control not to.

"Uh-uh," David stuttered, still surprised from the previous encounter, "Here's your precious fast food, though I see you've already found it."

"Aye," Killian smiled dreamily at him.

* * *

"Haha!" Killian laughed cheerily, throwing his hands happily in the air, "I win _again_ , mate!"

David rolled his eyes from his spot on the floor across from the man, though he couldn't deny the grin that had for from his lips. For almost two hours, David and Killian had been sitting there, on the floor of the living room, playing every single board and card game they could find that was in David's apartment: Monopoly, Clue, Life, Uno, etc. David won the first game they played - Uno - though every single other game Killian had won.

Not just a round every now and then, but every single one.

"I'm just a natural at this, mate, face it," Killian had offered as the reason why he was on such a major winning streak.

And similarly, after every game he won, Killian wanted to play something new. Uno? Now he wanted to play Monopoly, then Clue, then Life, then Go Fish, then Battleship, then this and then that. David had had to raid his closest and drawers to find new games to satisfy the man.

Both were very much enjoying the time they were spending together.

Killian, for his part, liked seeing David in this more relaxed way. Whenever they were at the hospital, it had all felt very public and very professional. But sitting here with David, the smell of fast-food in the air and board games scattered about the room on the boxes, in a much more relaxed environment, made him see the other side of the man, a side he found even more charming, even more irresistible, even more attractive than he'd ever found him before.

He was truly happy just sitting there, Killian in his jeans and shirt from earlier on, and David, who'd changed shortly after he got back, in his sweatpants and t-shirt, playing board games and talking with him.

"Of course you win again," David said, interrupting Killian from his thoughts. He stood up off the floor, taking balance on a nearby box, and picking up the empty fast-food bags and trash in his hands. He made his way towards the kitchen, where the trashcan was. He dumped it into the basket.

Killian arched an eyebrow at him with a smile.

Noticing, David shrugged. "I might as well try and at least keep part of this place clean."

"Aye, might as well," Killian said, nodding in agreement.

His eyes never left the man, however. Only for a brief second, to glance at the time - 9:00 - before darting back to David. Inside he panicked slightly. He very much hoped that their night wasn't over, and that David would come back.

In fact, he'd already decided he didn't want the night to ever end.

He sighed internally, relieved, when David reappeared from the kitchen, back into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He looked at Killian, smiled and snorted a laugh.

Killian leapt off the floor and plopped onto the couch beside David. He looked at him eagerly.

"Well," he said, his eyes planting on David across from him. "What do you want to do now?"

David wasn't sure of what he wanted to do. All he knew is that he, like what the man beside him was feeling, didn't want to end the night yet. He'd already been having a great time, and knew that any more time he spent with Killian would be equally great.

He didn't care what they did, he just wanted to spend it with Killian.

"I'm not sure…"

They sat there, in silence, for a few seconds, before Killian scooted closer to David and finally said:

"Where were you born?"

David raised an eyebrow at the man, though Killian continued to smile at him.

It was an unusual question, to be sure, but Killian had decided he wanted to know more about the man. His attraction to David Nolan had grown now to the point where he found everything about him to be absolutely captivating. David, so far, was a mysterious creature to Killian. He didn't know much about the man, very little actually, and Killian saw this as the perfect opportunity to learn more about his crush.

"I didn't know we were going to be having a interview, mate," David chirped, purposely adding emphasis to the last word, his lips hurting from the wide grin across his face.

"Well, I figured," Killian started, batting his thick eyelashes and pretty blue eyes at David, "That since we are housemates and all, that I should get to know you some. I know very little about you, mate."

David melted at the man's eyes. He'd tell Killian anything and everything he could if it meant he could stare dreamily into those captivating, gemstone pools of blue. Those things could trap even the strongest of souls in their gaze, David was convinced.

"Alright," David conceded, nodding his head, "Uh, I was born in Brookville, New York."

"Never heard of it," Killian admitted with a smile.

"That's… not surprising," David laughed, looking down for a moment in his lap, remembering the place he grew up. "It's a really small town on Long Island. Less than about a thousand people live there." He paused for a moment. "It's not even a town, really. There isn't any businesses or anything there. Just houses."

"It sounds like a fascinating place, mate," Killian said. It sounded sarcastic, but it wasn't. He truly was interested in David's words. Most of what David said Killian found captivating.

The man laughed again as he nodded in agreement, taking what the man said to be sarcasm. "It was even more boring than it sounds. It was full of rich, old people and big empty houses. The only interesting thing there was the ocean view." His voice quieted slightly. "But you probably don't want to hear about my boring life." He offered a smile.

The black-haired man shook his head instantly.

"No, no." Killian slid his body closer to the man again, trying as hard as he could to make it not noticeable. Their legs were now only an inch apart. "Please, tell me more about the adventurous and captivating life of David Nolan."

Killian, without even realizing it, placed his hand gently on David's leg in reassurance, sending volumes and thrills of wonder and excitement through David's body.

The "Killian feeling" - as David had grown to calling the thrill that swam through his body every time he was around Killian Jones - had now exploded into a thousand more rushes of fire just with the man's simple touch against his leg. It was numbing feeling now, so much more powerful than every before. David didn't know that the "Killian feeling" could get any better than it already was, but apparently a single touch from the man could make it expand a thousand times over.

David dreamily lost the feeling in his leg, only able to sense the warmth of Killian's hand against his leg. Overcome with it, he couldn't think of resisting the man's desires.

"Uh, uh, al-alright," David stuttered. "Well I was born in Brookville, New York..."

He felt himself repeating his words, though his mind was too preoccupied with Killian's feeling to say anything else.

Killian giggled. "Yes…" he motioned for more, "You told me that already, mate." He too offered a broad smile.

David, finally gaining some control over his words, noticed the man's grin. _Damn beautiful smile_ , he thought to himself, _and those gorgeous eyes, trapping anyone who looked at them_.

He smiled, too, and nervously apologized for repeating himself. "Right, right. Uh sorry. Uh, anyway, like I was saying..."


	9. A Night To Remember, Part Two

**This chapter begins directly where the last one left off. I hope you enjoy it!**

Chapter Nine

A Night To Remember, Part Two

For the next fifteen minutes David relayed a general summary of his life. How he'd spent his childhood surrounded by rich people all around the world at his family's homes: in New York, Palm Beach, Santa Fe, Paris, London, Switzerland, Italy, and other various other places that they'd rented for the season. His father, Albert Spencer, had come from an old family of lawyers and they had practices all over the world and his father had served in the Vietnam War. His mother, Ruth Nolan, had been a nurse in the military and that's where they had met. They had had David a few years later, along with David's twin, James.

"You have a twin, mate?" Killian interrupted with shock and surprised. He hadn't expected that.

David nodded at the man with a smile. "That's right," he said, "we were double trouble."

He continued talking about how he'd grown up. That his brother and him had been very close during their childhood, as twins naturally are, and how they had gotten into trouble very frequently.

"There was this vase," David laughed, "It was something from Europe, and it was huge, and it sat right outside of our bedroom. James and I - we wanted to see how fast it would roll down the stairs with one of us in it. So we brought it to the staircase, I got in it and he pushed. Somehow I fell out of it and it came crashing down the steps. My mom happened to be having guests that day, and they walked right in exactly as the vase was falling down the stairs." He laughed again, remembering the moment. "It smashed right into them, knocking them down and then it shattered against the wall. James and I were dying laughing until we heard our mom's voice."

He looked at Killian, who was smiling happily at the man's words. "Then we started to run."

David went on to tell more stories from his childhood, before the conversation took a sad dip as he talked about his mother's death, when he and his brother were about sixteen, from a very serious illness she had developed while traveling abroad.

"Mate, I'm so sorry. That must've been hard." Killian laid a hand on David's shoulder gently. Had it not been a sad moment, Killian might've felt shivers run through his body just by feeling the man.

"It was," David paused, thinking back to the painful time surrounding his mother's death. "But, it was my mom that inspired me to become a doctor. She loved medicine, and I wanted to honor her by going into the medical field."

His father, however, had been against that idea. He and Ruth had, it turns out, been separated for sometime before she had died, and were planning on divorcing. Albert Spencer wanted both David and James to become lawyers, like himself, and thought David would never succeed as a doctor. He had always assumed that David would join the family law firm.

David, of course, went against his father's wishes and went to medical school, from which he graduated very quickly, finished up his residency just as fast, and became a doctor within a few years.

"And a good one at that," Killian smiled affectionately at the man. David faintly offered a smile back, before he sighed heavily.

"Yeah."

He paused, just about to reveal something that was clearly very important to Killian. But then he stopped, let out another, lighter, sigh and then continued on.

David, as much as he was enjoying this moment with Killian, didn't want to spoil it by brining up the most painful memories of his past which still continued to be issues in his life today. And besides, he wasn't really ready to talk about that. Not yet, that is. So he decided to move on.

Killian, for his part, could sense that David was holding something back, though he didn't want to press it. He knew what it was like to not want to bring up hurt and pain from the past.

"And then I moved here, to Storybrooke, and became a doctor at Storybrooke General. I've been here for a couple of years now," he looked around at his apartment, "This was my first place when I got here," he said pointing around the room, " and I've been here ever since."

Killian nodded, also looking around the room. "I can see why you stayed here - ignoring the boxes of course. Nice place." He grinned cheekily at David, who couldn't help but also grin back. _Cursed "Killian-feeling"_.

"Yes, ignoring the boxes," he snorted.

They sat in silence, for a moment, taking in the conversation that had previously just occurred, before David broke the quiet:

"See, I told you my life was pretty boring," David smiled at him.

"The life of David Nolan _was not_ boring, mate!" Killian protested, adding emphasis to the last part. "I found it to be very interesting." He did. Really. David's story about his childhood had been very fascinating to Killian, because up until that point David had been a mysterious, unknown person to him. This had given him an opportunity to get to know more about the man's past better, which he enjoyed very much.

He particularly wanted to know what David was about to say to him, though he knew it would be best to leave that for another time, when David was ready to share that with him.

He hoped that their relationship, whatever it was, would eventually grow to the point where they would share stuff like that.

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to the _amazing_ life of musician and artist Killian Jones," David replied excitedly. Just like Killian had wanted to hear about his life, David also wanted to hear about Killian's.

Killian Jones was a foreign thing to David Nolan. Since the day he'd first met him in the hospital he realized Killian wasn't like other guys. He wasn't a typical, run-of-the-mill, average person, and that was something that greatly appealed to David. He wasn't looking for just any other ordinary guy, but, then again, he hadn't been really looking for anyone when Killian came into his life.

Either way, he wanted to know as much as he could about the musician.

And he also hoped it would take his mind off of the alluring attractiveness of the other man next to him. His sleek, surely soft, black hair; his crystal pool eyes of blue, alluring and tempting; his handsome, scruffy face and jawline, perfectly complimenting his beautiful, luscious lips; his slim, though fit body, which always grabbed David's eye. He was so close to just jumping on the man and grabbing for anything he could and as quickly as he could reach for it… David wasn't sure if he'd be able to resist his temptation. Hopefully Killian's words would distract him.

"Oh, nice one, mate," Killian congratulated, clapping slowly at innocent-looking David, "Turning it back on me, I see. I suppose since you told me your story, I must now tell you mine, as well, aye?" He didn't want to admit how much fun he was having playing this.

David just simply nodded. "Yep, that's right," he admitted, his thick lips stretched into a grin. He unknowingly inched closer to Killian (at this point he had learned that was a side-affect of the "Killian-feeling"), before continuing. "Tell me all about your life, Killian Jones."

"Well, where to begin?" Killian asked himself, batting his beautiful eyes. He wasn't even taking this seriously.

"At the beginning might be a good place," David added playfully. Killian eyed him, before adding a smile.

"Right," he said, "Well, uh, I was born in Drogheda, which is a sea town on the coast of Ireland." And then it hit him, hard, and he quieted suddenly, the joy and happiness quickly draining from his voice, as an air of seriousness fell over the room merely by his attitude. It turned into something completely different from the joyful and happy Killian that was there only a few moments before. He swallowed sharply. "Uh, actually, I don't think you wanna hear about that…"

David looked at him, concerned. What was it?

Killian looked away from him, trying to avoid his gaze. He flinched in his seat.

Just like David din't want to share something of his past, Killian also had heartbreaking memories he didn't wish to share. They were too painful for him to even think about, let alone say out loud. He wasn't ready.

" _Mate_?" David asked, trying to cheer him up.

Killian smiled pitifully. "It's just," he paused, "Some of my past is… painful."

David Nolan quickly regretted asking the man to talk about his past. Even though he couldn't have known there was something painful about it, he wouldn't want to do anything to bring sadness to the man next to him. He himself felt sad just by looking at Killian.

"Killian, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me about your past, it's okay. I'm sorry I asked… it was stupid of me." David patted Killian's back reassuringly and offered him another smile. "How about we do something else?"

David hopped off the couch with vigor, eager to regain the bright and joyful attitude of that they had had earlier in the night, and walked over to the television. "You said earlier you didn't watch Game of Thrones, well let's start tonight. If anything will cheer you up, it's blood, death and nudity." He fumbled around for the remote. "If I can just find the remote - "

Killian remained seated, staring off into the distance, silent, clearly deeply in thought.

"No," he finally said, much to David's surprise. He looked over at him."The past is the past. You don't want to hear that… it doesn't matter. What I want to tell you is who I am today." He motioned his hand for David to sit back down on the couch. "Please?"

David did so. "Alright," he said, "who are you today?"

"Today I am an artist, a musician, and a singer living in Storybrooke, Maine. I came here to try and focus more on my career and my art, and I plan on living here for a year. I hope to one day become a performer on broadway and open my own art gallery at some point." He laughed (much to David's relief and joy), thinking about what he going to say next. "I love drawing, gin, cinnamon rolls, the water and to sing." His eyes gazed beautifully at David's.

The man simply looked at him, his eyes gazing on him as well. Killian could feel that tingling inside him again…

He let out a sigh. He had put away the painful memories of his past for so long, he hadn't really dealt with them. Just thinking of them in that moment, he realized that, with his past having been filled with pain, he didn't want to deny himself any opportunity that he saw to be happy. He had always told himself that after he had left Ireland - which is why he chose to go to a small-time art college to learn music and art, and why he chose to up and move from Boston to a small town in Maine to further his skills, all because he knew that's what would make him happy - and he had been telling himself that when he came to America, as well. He had decided that he had had enough pain in his life, that he would take every chance he got to be happy.

And yet, here, sitting right in front of him, was an opportunity, a chance, at happiness: David Nolan. And he hadn't even acted on it yet.

Killian didn't even know whether David was gay, straight or what, but he just realized then and there that he knew David would make him happy, and he wanted to be with him. Killian wasn't sure what did it for him, what switch had finally been flipped, but now he couldn't deny the feelings he had at that moment. Before he hadn't been sure of what it was he was feeling, but now he knew.

Now he knew that he wanted to be with David Nolan.

But, first, that meant telling him he was gay.

"Wow, that's certainly an interesting mix, _mate_ ," David said, not noticing Killian's drift away into thought. His beautiful smile still greeted Killian, who couldn't bear to look at it, for fear of losing control. As he'd already learned, the man's smile could tempt even the strongest of souls.

"Uh, there's one last thing, mate," Killian added, looking at David straight into the eyes.

He couldn't believe he was about to do this.

"What?"

Killian took a deep breath. He desperately hoped that what he was about to say next wouldn't ruin his friendship with David. No matter what, he didn't want to lose that.

Unfortunately he had had bad experiences with other guys that made him think that way. Before, when he had confessed to a male friend he was gay, it usually ended badly. But somewhere, deep inside himself, he knew that David wouldn't be that way. After only a few days of knowing him, Killian was sure he wouldn't.

"I'm, uh, I'm also gay."

David's eyes-widened slightly. "What?" he stammered out in shock and disbelief. With the man's words, butterflies erupted inside of him and rays of happiness fell over his face. He was about to explode with happiness, and all by Killian's mere admission. It didn't mean that they would be together, or that Killian even wanted to be with David.

But, no matter that, he couldn't deny the joy bursting inside of him.

His lips were about to curve into a smile, before they were forced back by an even more sudden and shocking surprise: a kiss. Killian's warm lips pressed gently into his, as his tongue slipped into his mouth and made it's way around his, eager, excited and fast. David remained frozen, still in utter surprise, though he knew one thing was for sure.

It. Tasted. _Amazing_.

He didn't want the taste to ever leave him. It was like the Killian-feeling times a million and a million more. Sparks were erupting inside of him like he'd never felt before. Rapid fire explosions that were flooding through every inch of his body and rippling out in goosebumps on his skin. And he wasn't even doing anything, it was all Killian.

David was about to join in, before the tongue jolted out as quick as it had come in. It had felt like a century to David - the pleasure having numbed his sense of time - but in reality it was a mere few seconds.

He was just as surprised when it ended as he had been when it had started.

Killian pulled back, away from David, a look of shame covering his face. "Sorry about that, mate." He jumped off the couch and paced the room worriedly, his hand cupping over his forehead and his other gripping his side tightly. "Sorry… sorry," he mumbled again, more like to himself than to David.

"Killian," David spoke, barely able to hide the excitement that was bursting within him, "It's - "

Before he could finish, Killian grabbed his jacket off a nearby chair and raced to the front door of the apartment. He flung the door open and ran out of the room and down the hall, within a flash, limping all the way there due to his injury. And, before David realized what had just happened, the man was already boarding the elevator.

David rushed after him, tripping over some boxes as he did, though he didn't have time to stop. He didn't know what had happened with Killian, but he wasn't about to let him go. Not when he knew that his feelings for the man were shared.

But it was too late. By the time he'd run out to the elevator and gotten down to the lobby of his apartment building, the man had vanished out of nowhere on the street and into the night.

He was surprisingly fast for a disabled man.


	10. Name's August

Chapter Ten

Name's August

Killian Jones breathed heavily as he walked along the small, quiet streets of Storybrooke. He had stormed. . . well, _stormed_ is a bit of exaggeration for a man whose leg was injured; more as if he _limped furiously_. . . out of David's apartment as fast as he could, the worry of what he feared was going to happen getting the best of him. It was a stark contrast to the day he had had earlier. It had been a truly awesome day and night, so good that Killian had admitted he was gay and had kissed David without thinking about it. The heat of the moment, the rush that had developed inside of him, had overtaken his reason and it had gotten the best of him.

It hadn't been the first time, though it was the first time he had kissed someone without warning. Even as a child, Killian had been careful to ask the few girls, and definitely guys, he had been with if he could kiss them.

But, it seemed like everything with David was different. A good different.

He just had had to get out of there. The feeling that had bubbled up inside him from kissing David had been too much for him. In a good way, of course. Kissing David had set off bombs of passion and pleasure inside Killian, and he was sure that his body would certainly erupt and combust if his lips remained against the other man's for too much longer. The warmth of David alone would've been enough to set him off, but the taste. Oh, that taste, David's taste, a mixture of salty and sweet, had been the best thing to cross Killian's tongue in his entire life.

He would, surely, kill to experience that taste again. The taste of David's mouth alone had been like experiencing a fantastic orgasm for Killian, and he definitely wanted to feel that again.

But no, it wasn't the taste that forced Killian to leave David's apartment. It was _fear_.

Killian had been confident that he would be able to face David's rejection. He'd been rejected by other guys, before, so it wasn't something completely new to him. But, Killian had imagined David's taste to be that like it had come straight from Heaven, something which he was most certainly thought to be not true. But, despite being sure that David's kiss wouldn't be that amazing, Killian still couldn't get it out of his mind. Even with his best effort, he couldn't get past it. The thought was preventing him from being able to do anything else. So, he had decided that all he had to do was kiss David Nolan, realize David was just like every other guy, get it out of his mind that his life would crash without him, and then he would be able to handle a rejection from David.

But, the problem was, David was just like, if not better than, what Killian had imagined him to be. In their brief two seconds together, a feeling shad spiked up inside Killian. One that told him he wouldn't be able to survive if he couldn't be with David. David rejecting him, he was certain, would be the death of him.

Killian didn't want to risk hearing David say that, so he had to get out of there. _That's_ why he rushed out abruptly. _That's_ why he was now walking down Main Street of Storybrooke. Alone. He didn't want to be hurt by David's rejection, so he was escaping until he was ready to face it.

He breathed on his hands and rubbed them together, trying to stimulate some warmth. It was freezing outside, and the jacket he had grabbed before he left did little to protect him from the brutal, New England winter weather he was trekking through. Though he was from Ireland and had lived in Boston for a time, he had always hated the cold. You'd think it was something he was used to after spending most of his life in cold places, but no. He did not like wintery, low-temperature weather.

"Blasted cold," he murmured to himself, very much wishing he had also put on gloves and a scarf before marching out of David's warm, heated, cozy apartment.

A breeze rolled through, sending an even more chilling shiver through his body. _I've got to get indoors. . . somewhere where it's bloody heated,_ he thought to himself.

He looked around. Killian hadn't noticed it before, when he'd first started walking along the street, but he was the only person out that night. Everyone else had, apparently, been smarter than he was and was staying indoors, because there wasn't a single other person besides himself walking on the streets that night.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the flashing, brights lights of a lit sign. He looked at it and read the sign: Granny's Diner.

Killian was actually shocked that any business was open at that hour - it was around one o'clock in the morning - though it was a welcome surprise. _That looks like a place I can go_ , he thought to himself as he quickly crossed the street and walked into the diner.

He looked around the room: it was a small, though spacious, room with a bar on one side and several booths and individual tables on the other. Several people were there, seated at one or the other, each talking in chattery voices, though Killian didn't mind. There were free spaces around for him to sit, and that was all he needed.

Most importantly, it was heated.

"Welcome," chirped a warm voice that seemed to be moving closer and closer to him.

Killian turned to see a tall, pretty brunette walking towards him with a wide grin on her face. She was probably in her early twenties, and clearly worked there - based on the menus she was carrying in her arms, and the white, name-tagged uniform she wore, despite how incredibly revealing it was.

"Bar or booth?" she asked him cheerily, directing her hands to the bar at the right of the room, and then to the booths. "We've got available spots at both."

"Uh. . . bar."

She nodded and led him to the bar, showing him to a barstool and handing him the menu in her hand.

"Uh, can I just get a beer, mate?" Killian muttered to her, setting the menu down.

"Of course," she grinned back at him, "I'll be out with it shortly. My name's Ruby, by the way, and I'll be your waiter." She hurried off into the back of the diner, disappearing behind a door into the backroom.

Killian merely sighed and planted his face into his hands, rubbing his forehead carefully, an obvious sign he had something on his mind: David Nolan.

For the past hour, since he'd left the apartment, David had been all Killian could think about. How was he reacting to what had happened between them? Was he already clearing Killian's stuff out? Was he mad? Was he. . . was he. . . was he?

Killian just didn't know what to do.

* * *

David was pacing around his apartment, his arms crossed, a look of worry etched into his handsome face. He ran his hands through his short hair nervously, as his eyes remained fixated on the floor. Occasionally, however, with even the slightest sound from outside, they would dart to his front door, a look of hope - and also of relief - reflecting off of them, before they would zip back down to the ground, realizing it wasn't what he thought it was. Realizing that the noise wasn't _him_.

He hoped very much that at any moment Killian Jones would come walking through that door.

He regretted not stopping Killian, that he hadn't tried harder to bring him back, and not telling him how he felt the instant it had happened. Not telling him that the same attraction Killian felt for him, David surely felt a hundred times more for him.

David worried that he would never see Killian again. That the man had left and was never coming back to him. That it was too late for anything to ever happen between them. That David had missed an opportunity to find happiness with someone (he was absolutely sure that he would find it with Killian).

He wished that it wasn't too late. He wished that Killian would come back.

Those thoughts swirled in his mind, though they were met with the equally strong affects his body was having after Killian's kiss. It had been an hour since Killian had kissed him, but David still couldn't shake the desensitizing-pleasure his body was experiencing from it. Not that he wanted to, anyway, but it certainly didn't help the thoughts he was having of Killian leaving him forever.

Would this be the only time he would ever be able to feel this amazing sensation that was a kiss from Killian Jones?

David desperately hoped not.

* * *

"Bad night?"

Killian sat, slumped, with his hand holding up his head, on the bar at Granny's Diner, the bottle of beer he had ordered resting against the palm of his other hand, taking slurps of his drink every now and then and giving off a general atmosphere of depression. He was so deep into this state that he could barely hear the words that had been spoken to him.

"What?" he mumbled, turning to the man who had suddenly appeared in the seat next to him. Killian hadn't noticed him take a seat, too caught up in his thoughts.

"You don't look like you're having the greatest night," the man spoke again, a warm smile now formed from his lips and protruding from his scruffy, scraggly beard stubble. He talked easily, smoothly, as if he was speaking to an old friend. Killian wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He looked at him for a moment. It seemed as if the man had just taken a seat, since he was still wearing a blue leather coat, with a bright-colored scarf and gloves, and didn't yet have a drink in front of him. He was slipping off the gloves over his hands as he spoke to Killian.

"I'm not, mate," Killian agreed, his unhappiness clear in his voice, and he turned back to his drink. However, taking a sip, he realized that his beer was now empty. He grumbled. "Damn."

The man scooted closer to him. "Can I get two more beers over here," he said to Ruby, who was behind the counter washing bottles, pointing to himself and Killian. "This man needs a refill, and I need a drink." Ruby nodded, and pulled out two, fresh, bottles of beer and placed one in front of August and the other in front of Killian.

Killian smirked. "Thanks, mate." The man's generosity cheered him up slightly.

"Name's August," the man greeted, turning to Killian and offering his hand. "August W. Booth."

Killian shook August's hand gently, unsure of what to make of the man. It was very soft, though not as soft as David's hands. "Killian. Killian Jones," he said with a smile. However, his grin soon turned flattened out as he remembered what had happened to him just a mere hour ago between him and David.

August didn't seem to notice, or, if he did, it didn't affect him.

"Nice to meet you Killian," he continued. The man sounded cheery.

"And you as well, August."

* * *

The two sat in silence for awhile, with Killian's eyes focused on his beer, thinking back to how he had left things with David, and August looking nonchalantly at him. Killian tried to act like he didn't notice August looking at him, though he was pretty sure the man knew already.

"So," August spoke after awhile, "How badly did they break your heart?" he leaned back slightly, waiting for an answer from Killian.

Killian eyed him, slack-jawed and a confused look on his face. Eyebrows arched, his pretty blue eyes focused on August, wondering very much how August could've guessed that.

Was it that obvious?

"What? How do you-"

"I'm a writer," August stopped him before he could finish, "Which means I have to be able to identify emotions - to make my characters more realistic - and to describe them. I know the signs, and you're showing all of them," he paused briefly, letting Killian take in his words, before continuing, "besides, I've had my heart broken once or twice before. I can tell when someone's fatally lovestruck, because I myself have been before."

Internally, Killian analyzed his behavior briefly. Signs? He was showing signs? What did that mean? What was he doing? Had anyone else noticed? Surely others did notice if this complete stranger had.

"Am I obvious?" Killian asked, half-jokingly and half-not.

"Kind of," the man admitted with a smile, before patting Killian on the back. "It must've been pretty bad, based on how you're acting, though," he added, "You've been practically staring a hole through that beer bottle the entire time I've been here."

Killian, looked down, realizing what he had been doing. He nodded, though without much thought. "It was. Bad."

"Do you want to talk about it?" August asked, taking a sip of the beer in front of him. "I've got two functioning ears that are ready to listen and an tab at the bar waiting to be spent."

Killian wasn't exactly sure that he wanted to share all his problems with someone he had met a few minutes before, but, then again, why not? He didn't have anything else to lose - David was all that he valued at that moment, and Killian had no idea what to do about it. The beer had numbed away the worry inside him, though the thoughts still made it through.

Maybe this man could help him? Or maybe he could just be someone there for Killian to talk to? Either way, Killian couldn't see a negative reason why not to talk to the man.

"Sure," Killian conceded, with a sigh, before sipping his beer. "Let's talk."


	11. Fountain Of Gold

**This chapter will not continue where the previous one left off. The conversation between Killian and August in the diner will be revealed later on, as a flashback, for story purposes.**

Chapter Eleven

Fountain of Gold

When David woke up the next morning, Killian still hadn't returned after he had left the night before. David had stayed up, waiting, till about three in the morning, when he finally caved over on the couch and drifted off into sleep. He didn't want to go to sleep - he wanted to stay awake incase Killian came back - but he couldn't help it. His body was tired. . . and, frankly, so was he.

Worrying about Killian Jones for three hours straight had worn him out.

Not surprisingly, David hadn't dreamed about Killian. From the small knowledge he had learned about neurology in school, he knew that people often didn't dream about what was on their mind before bed, but about some small, unimportant thing that had happened during the day. Something that hadn't been given a second thought to, or something that was familiar.

David had dreamed he was at the hospital taking care of a patient.

It had been his mind's brief moment of rest from worrying about Killian because, as soon as he woke up, David immediately went to worrying about the man.

His stuff, as far as David could tell, was still there, so that was good. He hadn't left Storybrooke. . . yet.

Like the night before, David still expected Killian to come prancing through that door at any minute, though he realized the unlikeliness of it. Killian had, clearly, needed some time to himself, and David was confident that he would come back when he was ready.

He glanced at the clock from his spot on the couch. 9:00. Good thing it was a Saturday (Saturdays through Mondays were Whale's shift).

David got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen, dragging his feet along the way. He was still tired, and his body greatly wished he would go back to bed, but he wanted to stay awake for Killian. To do this, though, he would need his usual morning cup of coffee.

With one hand, he opened up one of the cabinets, pulled out a sleek, white coffee cup from one of the shelves, and set it on the counter. With the other, he turned on his coffeemaker and threw in one of the coffee packets. He filled the coffeepot with some steaming water from the sink, put it back in the maker, and then let the coffeemaker do it's thing.

As he did so, he heard a click from within the living room. The click of a door.

But David didn't bother to turn around. He shook his head as he looked at the brewing coffeepot. No, he said to himself, It's not real. It's just my head, again. He had heard those same sounds and more last night, over and over again, in his mind, telling himself that the man was back. Killian was back.

But, clearly, it never was him since Killian was still gone.

Though it did make him wonder again how much longer until he would come back. Or if he ever would. . .

Then he heard light, reluctant footsteps. David still remained unconvinced. It's not him. He focused on the coffeemaker. He could practically taste the delicious coffee in his-

"Mate?" Killian's heavenly voice finally called out to him. Now David was sure. It was him.

David's eyes widened and he turned toward the man, a wide grin spread across his face. He had come back. It was real this time. Killian was really back. It wasn't too late.

"Killian-" David said, the excitement rising quickly inside of him. He could wait to explain everything to Killian. To tell him that he shared his feelings, and wanted to be with him. "You're back, you-"

The man stopped him. "Mate, I have to say something," he said. Killian sighed heavily. He looked like he was going into battle.

"So do I. I-" David tried to say, before Killian interrupted him.

"Wait, I have to say something." Killian seemed very serious. Somber, even. David started to fear something was wrong, or something bad was about to happen. Killian had just returned a few seconds ago, and, yet, already there seemed to be another problem on the horizon.

"Alright," David nodded.

"David," he began, "I've fallen for you. Like, seriously, majorly, fallen for you. And I've been thinking about you. A lot. I know it's only been a short time since we first met each other, but in those few days, I've grown towards you, and developed feelings for you, in a way that I never have before. That's why I kissed you last night. I couldn't control myself, and I'm sorry. But I have majorly fallen for you David Nolan, and I want you to know that."

He paused, upon which David tried to say something, but Killian stopped. "Let me finish," he said in his adorable accent. Despite his worry of the situation, David couldn't find seriousness in any of this because of Killian's cute accent.

"I ran out last night because I couldn't bear to hear you reject me. I've fallen for you to that extent, David. I didn't want to hear you push me away or tell me no or whatever so I ran out before you could," he paused again. "But, now, I'm ready. After a few hours to myself, I have finally come to terms with your rejection and am ready to face it."

"Killian-" David started, again, though was stopped, again, by Killian. "But, before you say anything, just know, mate. No matter what kind of hateful, terrible, evil rejection you throw at me, I won't stop David. I won't stop pursuing you. I won't stop trying to be with you. . . I won't go psycho, creepy-stalker/obsessed follower on you, mate, but I will never give up on us, even if there isn't an 'us'. I won't-"

He tried to finish. Though this time, it was David's turn to interrupt.

"Oh my freaking goodness, Killian Jones! If you would've let me get one word in, you could've saved yourself the trouble of this whole speech" he spoke, before walking directly to the man. Taking the man's head into his hands, David planted a huge, passionate kiss onto Killian's soft lips.

And it felt even better than it did the first time.

* * *

Their kiss lasted what seemed like hours. . . though in reality was just a few seconds.

"Do you think I'm going to reject you now, mate?" David asked, breathing heavily, finally pulling away from Killian's beautiful lips. It was like pulling away from a fountain of gold, but he realized he had to do it at some point. And, besides, the coffeemaker was ringing.

Killian nodded happily, his lips clearly wanting more of David. "Uh, yeah, uh, no it doesn't, mate." He licked his lips seductively at David, who was over at the coffee-machine, taking out the steaming pot of dark-colored liquid.

David smiled at him. He looks so cute just standing there. And so handsome. "Coffee?" he asked the dark-haired man, showing him the pot.

"Sure."

Reaching for another cup from the cabinet, David poured two glasses of the coffee, one for himself and one for Killian. He placed the empty pot down on the counter, handed one glass to Killian, took a sip from the other, and walked over beside the man. He laced one of his muscular arms around Killian's back and drew him nearer.

The man smiled at him and nestled his head against David's shoulder. "Mate," he whispered affectionately.

"Mate."

* * *

 **2 Weeks Later**

"Hello, you've called the Carthouse Restaurant, would you like to make a reservation?"

Killian and David had been dating for two weeks now, and it had all been going perfectly. Really, there was no other word to describe it other than perfect. There hadn't been any fights, or arguments, or problems. Just a large, happy dream for the both of them.

But, despite that, they wanted to take things slow, for sure. They both realized that rushing into this, head-on, would be a mistake and, probably, not end well for their relationship. David and Killian both could clearly see the fiery spark between them, and they didn't want that to be put out with hastiness.

They wanted to let it grow, which meant, for the time being, no sex. As much as they both really, really, really wanted it, David and Killian were content to wait until a far more emotionally-stronger bond had been built between them. They had both had sex with their partners in the past very early-on, and those relationship hadn't lasted for much longer (except for, in David's case, Mary Margaret), so they wanted to try waiting. No sex until the time was just right.

"Hi, yes, I need a reservation for a table for two tonight at 6:00 o'clock."

So, Killian had decided to move out. He knew the temptation of sleeping just a few feet away from the oh-so desirable, handsome David Nolan would be something that, eventually, would get the best of him, and by moving out, he would completely prevent that temptation. David had been less-than open to the idea of his "roommate" leaving him. He enjoyed waking up every morning to the sight of Killian sleeping on his couch, but, eventually, he knew that he, too, would be tempted so long as Killian was there. Eventually he agreed.

"Alright, a reservation for two tonight at 6. Will there be anything else, sir?"

But, it wasn't like Killian was moving to a different state. Thankfully, with the help of a realtor, he had been able to find a nice, small, cozy apartment above the town library about a mile away from David. It was about three rooms total - bedroom, bathroom and a living room/kitchen - and, despite being on the smaller side, it had plenty of room for his art supplies. It was perfect for Killian and his few possessions.

Killian had yet to find a job, however. He was looking, with no luck, though he was able to live off of the money he had saved up while in Boston.

"No, that will be all, thank you." David said, hanging up the phone and putting it down on the countertop.

Despite not living together anymore, Killian and David still managed to see and talk to each other multiple times a day. They called each other at some point during the day, sometimes met for lunch and went out for dinner every night, usually a Granny's Diner or some other small restaurant. Afterwards they would got back to David's place and hang out for awhile.

It was a nice system they were in.

But tonight was different than the other nights. Tonight was their two-week anniversary, and so David wanted to treat Killian to something special. He thought dinner at the uber-expensive Carthouse Restaurant would be perfect.

As he walked away from it, his phone rang again. Killian, David thought with a smile forming quickly across his face.

He rushed over to the phone and answered it quickly. "Hello, mate," he greeted playfully.

"David?" said a voice that was most certainly not Killian's. It was Mary Margaret's voice.

"Mary Margaret?" David asked, the playfulness evaporating from his voice. He was surprised to hear from her. The last time they had spoken was when Killian had first been brought to the hospital, a few weeks back. It had been on the news, and Mary had called to ask how he was. She usually volunteered at the hospital, but had been unable to the past month due to some school project her students were doing.

"Yes, it's me," David could sense the worry and shakiness in her voice.

"W-what is it? Is something wrong?"

"Uh, no, uh. . ." she paused, "Uh, David. . . I'm. . . _I'm pregnant_."


End file.
